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to get the black dog so early in the day, for that they were really going to have a good spree, and must make the most of it. She had attired herself with unwonted sobriety, in a solemn frock of black gauzy stuff, with casual flounces and furbelows (as men call them—no woman has ever had the slightest idea of what a furbelow really is) of vapoury black lace. A black plumed shady hat half hid her bright face, pink as sweetbriar blossoms in June, while her lips rivalled the coral of its berries in autumn. She looked so happy and so handsome that all the passengers stared at her as if she were indeed a “phantom of delight.” Fortunately, perhaps, these were few in number. There was a pretty country-girl, in white muslin, with a pocket full of bonbons, which she consumed incessantly like a ruminating animal. The young lady was evidently betrothed to a sad, prosperous, bushy-looking young man who sat next her, and on whose shoulder she reposed in a conventional stereotyped manner, as if she merely took up this attitude for the sake of appearances, and not in the least because there was any pleasure, forbidden or otherwise, in such a fashion of repose. Neither did the sad-faced young man take the slightest notice of her, other than tacitly supporting her weight without remon-